An Alchemist's Progress
by duchess-susan
Summary: Cassandra Larimar is a vampire alchemist who gets a job in the Watch...and then Pan turns up again and the killings start.
1. Chapter 1

**My first attempt at writing a fic for an OC so be gentle. The Watch are going to be involved, and hopefully no one will dislike this fic too much.**

An Alchemist's Progress

Cassandra Larimar entered Biers in need of a drink. Or four. It had been one of those days. She had been thrown out of the Alchemist's Guild, and not for the usual reason of it being reduced to its component parts.

Cassandra was a _good _alchemist. She was also a vampire. Her obsession with chemicals had replaced the bloodlust. She still wasn't quite sure which was more dangerous. She had been a Black Ribboner for three months now, and had been completely in control. Until Silverfish had cut his finger on a broken crucible. It was only lucky the other alchemist's had been there to hold her back. Afterwards they had offered her a cup of cocoa and politely asked that she left the Guild that night. She hadn't seen the point in arguing. At least this way no one had tried anything with stakes.

Now she had to deal with it. She was going to start with a gin and tonic. And work things out from there. It was as she was staring glumly into her drink that a blonde woman took the seat next to her.

Angua wouldn't normally have bothered with a vampire, but this one seemed more dejected than savage, and reminded her of how she had been at first in Ankh-Morpork. Hungry, lost and still adapting.

'Rough day?'

'You have no idea.'

Angua eyed the acid-stained dress and the long black hair that was trying to mimic Medusa curls, unintentionally. The accent was Morporkian. This was not the kind of girl who had been _born _a vampire. She'd been converted. Angua looked hard, and was rewarded with the sight of two small circular scars on her neck.

'You're an alchemist, right?'

'Was. Lost my Guild membership this afternoon.' Cassandra had very little idea why she was confiding in this young woman, who was wearing a Watch uniform and was, if Cassandra's instincts rang true, a werewolf. After all she _was _in Biers and only werewolves and vampires can focus on a jugular like that. 'I'm Cassandra.' She felt an introduction was necessary, and might provoke a similar response from her companion.

'Angua. So...if you're an alchemist I suppose you might know about what the Watch call forensics?'

'Are you offering me a _job?'_

'No. Just an interview. You'll have to get past Cheri and Mister Vimes before you get the job.'

Cassandra tried to smile without looking threatening, a difficult task for a vampire. 'When and where would this interview be?'


	2. Chapter 2

**Vimes! Alchemy! Cassandra! Banter! Humour! Well 2 out of 5 ain't bad. R&R, please? **

Vimes looked at her with a certain amount of distaste. She knew he didn't like vampires, but she'd been quizzed by Cheri first, and had been feeling quite optimistic about her future in the Watch, especially since the Alchemist's Guild had supplied her with an excellent reference in a bid to get her to leave faster. And then Vimes' interrogation had begun.

'Why do alchemist's want gold?' Vimes began.

Cassandra had been slightly thrown by this, but managed 'because we spend so much trying to make the stuff. It's a bit of a paradox, really.'

Vimes nodded. If the girl had said that it was because alchemy was a pure science that sought the true meaning of existence he would have thrown her out right then and there. The only reason he'd even agreed to consider a damn vampire was because Angua had suggested her and Angua was never wrong. 'The Guild said you only blew it up three times, and you were there six months. Cheri assures me that means you are a _very _good alchemist.'

'Yes. Sir.' It was difficult to remember to call this scruffy and over-worked man sir. Besides it was natural for a vampire to resist ever calling anyone _sir._

'So why aren't you still with the Guild?'

'There was an incident.' Cassandra had rehearsed that line. It was a respectably vague one that she just _knew _no one would let be.

'And said incident involved...' Now she knew why he was called Vetinari's terrier. He really wasn't going to let this go, so she may as well get it over with.

'Silverfish was clumsy. He cut himself. Things got a bit...out of hand.' She nervously produced a strip of black ribbon and held it before her, as though it might deterr Vimes's permanant glare. It didn't. 'I'm still on the wagon, I have been ever since I _became _a vampire.'

'That being?'

'Six and a half months ago.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'You sound like an Morporkian. You didn't go travelling in Uberwald, otherwise you'd be dead, not merely undead. No, you got attacked by a vampire _here. _In the city. Why didn't you report it?'

Cassandra was stunned by the change of subject. 'I thought the undead were left to police their own.'

'The Watch police _everyone. _Even the undead, although sentencing them is often difficult. Take your attacker for example, is he guilty of assault or murder? Or did you _ask _to be bitten?'

She shrugged. 'Not _exactly_, no_._'

Vimes sighed. 'I don't like vampires. I don't like most people, come to that. But Angua tells me that you are trustworthy-and she can tell these things. And if you aren't then we can always find a way to correct that. Besides you are still the sanest alchemist I've met in a long time. So you are now a member of the Watch. Assistant to Cheri, and also a spare constable should we need you, which we will, so be prepared. Watch out for Corporal Nobbs, he'll probably try to nick any valuables you have, and avoid Reg Shoe unless you want to become a member of the Fresh Start Club.'

Cassandra nodded. 'Thank you, sir.'

'You won't have to be on night shifts all the time?'

'No. Exposure to magnesium flares in the Guild has rather eroded the efficency of sunlight.' Cassandra smiled grimly. She supposed it _had _done her some good after all, though she had crumbled to dust quite a few times before she had got used to it.

Vimes nodded. 'Being on the Watch isn't easy. It could be dangerous, even of you aren't quite a real officer.'

'Ever been on the receiving end of an alchemist's practical joke sir?' 

She was rewarded with a scowl that included trace elements of a smile.

**Review, please? Before I get disheartened. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Cheri gives some advice to Cassandra...**

She had a job again. Which was a plus. She didn't like being unemployed, it made her feel useless and at least this way she belonged somewhere. At the moment somewhere was, if Reg Shoe got his way, the Fresh Start Club.

'You got thrown out the Alchemist's Guild for being undead, didn't you? You have become the victim of vitalism and-'

'Actually it wasn't just being undead, something happened, but thanks for the concern-'

'Join the Fresh Start Club, where vital members of the community without vital signs campaign to stop the rampant vitalism of this city. We meet on Thursdays.'

'I'll think about it.' The zombie gave her a look that said 'I know that that's code for no but just you wait', and shambled off.

Cheri was stifling her laughs. 'He's alright when you get to know him, really he is. He's very passionate about undead rights, that's all.'

'I could tell.' Cassandra glanced around. Everywhere she looked Watchmen were perpetrating small crimes, safe in the privacy of Pseudopolis Yard. One particularly gruesome...man?...was furtively pocketing the contents of the tea kitty, as well as the far wealthier swear box.

Cheri followed her gaze. 'That's just Nobby. You get used to him, and he's no trouble if you remember not to turn your back on him.'

'Vimes did warn me.'

'I'm sure he did. He told you, didn't he, that you'll be a member of the forensics team _and _a constable, depending on what we need at the time?'

'He mentioned it, yes.'

'Good.' Cheri gave her a friendly grin. 'Things are always on a bit of a makeshift basis in the Watch, to be honest, but after a week or two you'll feel like you've never done anything else in your life.'

_That was a very carefully worded sentence-neither positive nor negative. _'I'm sure I'll get used to it.'

'I know you're a vampire but...'

'Yes?'

'Some blusher could really do wonders.' Cheri looked bashful.

'Thank you. I shall bear that in mind.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Again I find myself diving into Greecian mythology-but what the hells, Discworld gods are like the Greek ones anyway...Oh and Reg takes advantage of Cassandra's inebriation-but not like that, before anyone starts. **

Apparently part of becoming a member of the Watch involved going to the Bucket, buying a lot of drinks and then proceeding to get as hammered as an blind blacksmith's anvil.

Cassandra was being subjected to this rite of passage. Currently it was her name that was the topic of conversation.

'Cassandra? Wasn't she some mad seer who got involved with one of the gods hundreds of years ago?' The giant who had been introduced as Carrot said earnestly. As well as being the most honest of the group he was also the most sober.

'I was told that the god in question was Fedecks. And he drove her mad.' _Pan told me that, _she thought, _he probably thought it was ironically appropriate.. _She considered her fifth drink of the evening, drank it, and reflected that an empty glass was an abomination that should be remedied as soon as possible. Though her thoughts were sliding in and out of focus by this point.

Detritus was already snoring loudly somewhere in the vicinity of the floor, due to one too many vodka and cokes (the troll kind, without fizz).

Someone else was attempting to have a conversation with her, so she did her best to narrow the speaker down to one clear image. Unfortunately this was easier said than done.

'Tomorrow is Thursday. I'm betting you'll be wanting to attend that meeting I was talking about miss.'

'Yes?' Cassandra thought that maybe by saying this the speaker might be tempted into explaining themselves. She was sure it must be the drink talking, but whoever it was appeared have an unusually _grey _skin tone.

'Oh, everyone will be so happy to meet you, I'm sure.' The figure's voice had a bullet-proof smile in it.

'Really?' Cassandra had never, in her memory at least, met anyone who would be _happy _to have met her. Most were indifferent. Some were quite negative, now she thought about it.

'We'll all see you there at noon then?'

'Where?' She was beginning to panic, but only vaguely. The alcohol was doing an amazing job of soothing her nerves, and even blocking out the frantic hand signals from Angua.

'668 Elm street. Every body welcome.'

'Oh. Okay.' She looked around and proposed a drunken toast, 'to sweet beginnings and bitter endings!'

At this point the drink convinced her that the very _best _thing she could do now was join Detritus underneath the table. So she did.

**Review, please.**


	5. Chapter 5

Cassandra woke up in the Watch-house. As she raised her head cautiously from the desk she realised that it was mid-morning, and the office already had a few occupants, one of whom was Angua. Cassandra made her way over to her, in what she hoped was a surreptitious way.

'How did I get here?' she hissed.

'Carrot took you back. None of us knew where you lived.'

'I live-I _lived _in the Guild.'

Angua took pity on her. 'Try Mrs Cake's in Elm Street. She _specialises, _if you get my meaning. You made a _fantastic _toast last night.'

Cassandra groaned inwardly. She couldn't _quite _believe she had humiliated herself so thoroughly _already. _In front of _everyone. _Angua seemed to recognize the look of terrible recollection.

'_And _you agreed to attend a Fresh Start Club meeting today. Enjoy.' The werewolf smiled in a decidedly lupine way.

Cassandra slammed her head into her hands. 'Oh my gods...'

It was at this moment that Vimes walked in. 'There's a disturbance at the Alchemist's Guild.' He caught sight of Cassandra. 'It's your old stomping ground. Perhaps you should take care of it. It doesn't look dangerous, and you can go with Fred and Nobby.'

Cassandra nodded and followed Corporal Nobbs and Sergeant Colon out.

It turned out that the disturbance was Reg Shoe picketing the Alchemist's Guild. Slogans were being mercilessly and loudly chanted, slogans like 'Alchemy-a vitalist science' and 'Who are alchemists to disapprove of necromancy?'

Mr. Silverfish was waiting for them. His face fell as he saw _her._

'Ah. There's been a bit of a problem here, with this gentleman. Cassandra, if you could deal with it?'

Fred and Nobby exchanged glances.

'It's Constable Larimar now.' She tried to sound authoritive, and failed completely.

'Fine. _Constable Larimar, _if you would?'

Reg brightened up when he saw them and came over. At the same time a window somewhere above them shattered and scattered pieces of glass over the five figures, of which four ducked. The fifth allowed glass to shower over her.

As the others returned to normal standing positions, trying to look as though the last few seconds hadn't happened, she raised a finger and said 'it's not finished.' Cassandra smiled beatifically as another, larger explosion shook the Guild. '_Now _it's over.' She turned to Silverfish. 'Chain reactions can be so dangerous, can't they?'

Silverfish just gaped at the vampire before him, who had a black halo of writhing curls that shone with fragments of glass, and who's eyes were glinting dangerously.

Sergeant Colon took control of the situation, mainly because he wanted said situation to be over quickly so he could get out of the cold. 'Reg, if you would follow us off the premises.'

'I have a right to protest. This Guild unlawfully dismissed a member just because they were undead.'

Cassandra shut her eyes.

'You mean her, don't you?' Corporal Nobbs was the personification of subtlety and tact.

'Yes. The vitalism displayed was _unbelievable-'_

'Not _now _Reg.' This was Colon.

Reg looked puzzled. 'Why, what time is it?'

Nobby produced a watch that certainly belonged to someone else. 'A quarter to twelve.'

Reg shrugged. 'Fine, but I'm leaving because I have a prior engagement. As does the constable.'

Colon looked at them both. 'Oh _really?' _His face was bathed in the light of the willful misunderstanding. 'It's like _that, _is it? And her having only known you a day, well I _never_.'

Cassandra panicked. 'NO. I'm going to a Frest Start meeting, that's all. It's okay if I take this as my lunch break, right?' _Say no, say no, say no..._

'May as well.'

_No, you didn't just say that, save me from a society of the undead, please. Just stake me now._

Reg grinned. 'You and me, miss. Just wait until you meet the rest of the group, I know that they'll be your type of people.'

As the pair of them walked away Colon turned to Nobby. 'I think our Reg is carrying a torch for that young lady.'

Nobby gave this due consideration. 'Nah. He just wants to get into her crypt.'

'Nobby you shouldn't talk like that,' Colon said sternly.

'I just meant that he wants her to further his undead rights movement.' Nobby made a valiant attempt at looking and sounding innocent but failed due to his intrinsic Nobbyness.

**Please review.**


	6. Chapter 6

The Fresh Start Club was as bad as Cassandra had feared. She had been introduced by a beaming Reg as 'Sister Cassandra', despite the fact that she was an only child who could _never_ be genetically similar to most of the people in the room.

Count and Countess Notfaroutoe had been 'charmed' to make her acquaintance. Ixolite had handed her a very empathic note, with a welcoming wail written on it. The darkness that was Schleppel had murmured something that sounded like 'afternoon' and Lupine had just rolled his eyes at her in a way that expressed the fact that they were both there out of a combination of pity and press-ganging.

'So,' said the Countess in what Cassandra assumed she thought was a sophisticated purr, 'how did you become a vampire?'

Cassandra glanced around. Reg nodded at her encouragingly.

'I just met someone and he wasn't quite what I expected,' she mumbled.

The Count gave her an amiable look. 'Did he have a name? We might know him.'

'I don't think you will, really I don't-'

'Vhat was his name girl?'

Cassandra gave up. 'He called himself Pan.'

She thought she heard Schleppel snigger.

'Don't know any Pans. Not a very Morporkian name, is it?' The Count was silenced by his wife's powerful glare.

Cassandra really wanted to leave. She had only been here ten minutes and already she had told this group of misfits more about herself than she had ever intended to admit to anyone. She could tell, however, that Reg wasn't going to let her leave now.

'Aren't we glad to have a new member everyone?'

A chorus of reluctant affirmatives answered the zombie.

Count Notfaroutoe began talking to her again. 'How do you manage in the city? I just can't seem to get the moat right, and if you want a castle around here you can just forget it-'

'Actually I need to find somewhere to stay today.' Cassandra saw an escape route and went for it. 'Someone recommended a place on this very street, actually, Mrs Cake's.' She realised everyone had joined in on the last word.

'So you know it?' she ventured.

'I live there.' Reg was _radiating _happiness. 'She's a very understanding landlady. I can take you there now, if the others don't mind ending the meeting early.'

No objections were raised so Cassandra was forced to leave the meeting with Reg in tow. There was nothing _wrong _with the zombie, but his enthusiasm wore her down. It was _depressing, _the way he wanted people to care so much, the way he hoped and dreamed on their behalf if they didn't join in. It was like being in the presence of a kind but extremely incompenant god who just can't understand why he has to _tell_ people the meaning of life, and is patiently giving them incomprehensible hints in the hope that they will get there one day.

Mrs Cake had been perfectly pleasant and really _didn't _care that her newest tenant was a vampire. Upon seeing some of the other residents Cassandra knew why. 

_At least I have somewhere to live now. _That was the only positive she could currently think of. The room was small and sparsely furnished but it was also clean and mercifully free of a tendency to combust, like her old room at the Guild.

**Please review.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A short chapter just to move things along a bit so I can start publishing the next chapters without it being too confusing.**

After that Cassandra's first week in the Watch was fairly uneventful. She found she was accepted very quickly into the ranks of Watchmen. When she was working she ceased to be a vampire, and was just One Of Them. The Old Sam. It was something she could see both pros and cons to, but on the whole she enjoyed being able to belong somewhere where people didn't feel the need to carry garlic around with them, just in case.

Even Vimes had stopped scowling at her anymore than he did normally. Colon had told her it was because she of how she had talked to Silverfish. When she had asked what he meant by that he said Vimes didn't exactly appreciate a Guild that unlawfully damaged the surrounding properties so often, and that by asserting herself as a constable rather than an alchemist she had declared her loyalties. Cassandra had refrained from pointing out that she had only done so to annoy Silverfish.

Every organisation has a religious fanatic somewhere, and in the Watch it was Constable Visit. Cassandra had been dreading meeting someone for whom vampire translated into 'decapitate immediately', because most gods don't have much time for people who are immortal. Instead she had been presented with enough leaflets to make up the wood of a good-sized stake and told the apparently good news that Om welcomed the undead.

When she had discretely made her way over to the bin with the leaflets she found a notice over it that said 'Have you REALLY read that?' There were dozens of leaflets in it, regardless. She guessed that a few more wouldn't be noticed, but only ten minutes afterwards Visit pressed some more into her hand and said 'you finished the others one's quickly,' with a steely look in his eyes. Nobby, who had been watching the whole thing, began to laugh unpleasantly.

'You'll have to be sharper than that.'

She glared and went to find Cheri. Cassandra quite enjoyed being able to split her time between alchemy and policing, and as there was so much work to be done no one seemed to mind what she was doing as long as she was achieving something.

**Review please.**


	8. Chapter 8

It was early evening before Cassandra left the Watch-house to go back to Elm Street. Unfortunately Reg Shoe left at the same time.

'Hello.' The zombie actually appeared delighted to see her. He always did. The smile faded to a look of faint reproach. 'You weren't at the Fresh Start meeting this afternoon.'

'I'm really sorry. There was a suicide that looked like it might have been a murder, and then I to catalogue the new acids for Cheri and,' the excuses died.

Reg sniffed. 'So you'll be there next week, then? Only everyone was expecting you, and the Count was so disappointed when you didn't show up. Apparently he needs some advice on building a decent crypt on a small budget.'

'Oh...'

Reg was unstoppable now. 'And Schleppel wanted to ask if you would mind him staying with you for a few nights-his basement is being cleaned, you see.'

'Um...'

'Even Lupine was looking forward to seeing you again.'

'I'll be there next week, okay?'

'Couldn't ask for anymore.'

Cassandra breathed a sigh of relief. Reg seemed to feel the need to restart the conversation.

'You probably shouldn't walk home alone in the dark like this.'

'I've lived in Ankh-Morpork my whole life.' Reg raised an eyebrow. '_And_ unlife,' she corrected, 'I know what the streets are like, I don't need any lectures about how dangerous it is, I _know. _I've had to deal with the repercussions before.'

Reg shot her an odd glance. 'Really? Well I suppose a _vampire _can handle themselves, but some of the thieves these days carry holy water and all sorts.'

'I'll survive. I was the only alchemist to witness and survive both the Great Francium Explosion of Grune 10th _and _Red Saturday. Being able topull yourself back together after the blast helps, of course.' She smiled at the memory. She had been a _brilliant _alchemist, because it would take more than an explosion to kill _her._

'Being undead has all kinds of perks.' Reg broke into her thoughts. He gave her a lopsided grin. 'Here we are. See you tomorrow at work.'

Cassandra nodded and headed for her room.

**Please review.**


	9. Chapter 9

**As ever please review. Pan makes his first appearance and Cassandra isn't happy to see him.**

Cassandra slipped into her room and was shocked by the person already occupying it. It was not the good kind of shock. It was the kind of shock that makes your mind burn but freezes the rest of you, the kind of mixture of shock and despair that accompanies thoughts like oh-dear-gods-I-just-tossed-a-lit-match-into-napalm.

It was Pan. He was six foot tall, with vivid, _electric _green eyes, and flame red hair. He looked effortlessly at ease, and, just as she was considering escaping through the open door he reached over and slammed it shut.

'What the hells are you doing here?' That was all she could manage to force out coherantly. To close the door he had had to come _very _close to her.

'Aren't you pleased to see me?' He was smiling in a way that suggested he could buy and sell your very soul. And would enjoy doing so.

'I'm doing just fine without _you.' _Cassandra was nervous. He was scrutinizing her. Something seemed to catch his eye.

'Oh _dear. _I give you a new life as a member of the undead and _this _is how you spend it? Consorting with werewolves and zombies? _Not _drinking blood?' He ripped the black ribbon from her collar and allowed it to drift to the floor. She snatched at it, only for him to grab her wrists and crush them with enough pressure to make her grit her teeth to avoid whimpering in pain. 'I thought you wanted to be someone _special. _Someone _powerful. _Instead you become a pathetic alchemist, who's too _weak _to accept her heritage. I thought you were better than that.' He shook his head sadly. 'Whatever shall I do with you, dear star-crossed Cassandra?'

She attempted to stamp on his foot, in the hope that he might release her. He just sighed and threw her across the room, hard enough to make the chair she hit collapse into a pile of firewood.

'That wasn't very nice of you. Learn some _manners, _I am your _guest_.'

'Your an _intruder.' _She was lying in a puddle of broken wood. She gripped a broken chair leg. Pan approached gracefully, knelt beside her and kissed her gently, just as she thrust upwards with the chair leg, using it as an improvised stake.

Too late. Pan was like that. _Tricky. _He had already gone. Cassandra was aware of someone knocking and entering without waiting for a reply.

'You alright dear?' Mrs Cake took in the destroyed chair and the vampire with the bruised arms and torn collar, who also happened to be holding a chair leg in a threatening manner. Cassandra dropped it guiltily.

'Yes. Yes. Fine. I'll, um, I'll pay for the chair.'

Mrs Cake just gave her an odd look and left.

**I would love to know what you think of Pan, so please review.**


	10. Chapter 10

**This is where this fic gets a little dark.**

Cassandra arrived at the Watch-house early the next morning. She didn't want to have to think. She just wanted to be able to perform some small, repetitive task that she could lose herself in. Instead she found the station in uproar.

'What's happened?' She addressed this to Reg, who was working at his desk.

'There's been a murder. Looks like a vampire without the ribbon.' He looked up. 'Are you alright? Your arms...'

Cassandra realised too late that her sleeves weren't covering her bruised wrists. Alchemist's clothes never normally did, long sleeves presented a safety hazard, more than anything else. _A vampire without the ribbon. Pan..._

'I'm fine.'

The zombie gave her a disbelieving look. 'Are you sure? You look like you've been crying.'

'I really am fine.'

'In that case Vimes has said he wants to see you.'

Which was how Cassandra found herself in his office ten minutes later, having been informed that a seamstress had been found dead in the Shades. With two circular marks on her neck and no blood. Angua and Carrot were in the office too. She had no idea whether that was a good sign or not.

Vimes was glaring at her. 'Anything to tell me, constable?'

Cassandra bit her lip, a particularly painful action for a vampire. 'No.' _It can't have been Pan, even he isn't stupid, please gods don't let it be him. There are so many vampires in this city, why would it be the one that I happen to know. It could be Count Notfaroutoe. But it's not. Oh my gods it's Pan. How can I tell Vimes that? He'll want evidence. Anyway I _know _what he's asking and that's if _I _killed the girl. _'Nothing.'

Vimes sighed. 'Fine. Go.'

Cassandra left quickly.

Vimes turned to Angua.

'I know what you're thinking sir, but I'd know if it was her. She _reeks _of chemicals, like a cross between Reg and a fireworks factory. It's not the kind of smell you can mask.'

'But it _was _a vampire.'

Carrot chipped in. 'There are hundreds of vampires in the city. Besides Reg said she was fine yesterday night.'

Vimes lit a cigar. 'Yes but what about very, very early today? Say 2 AM when that seamstress was killed?'

'It really wasn't her sir. It's just unfortunate that this vampire flew away from the scene. I can't track him in the air, but I _could _smell him at the scene and it wasn't anything chemical at all.'

Vimes arched an eyebrow. '_Him?' _

Angua shrugged. 'Just an impression I got, that's all.'

Vimes blew a smoke ring. 'She _was _nervous though.'

Angua and Carrot exchanged a glance. Carrot spoke. 'Wouldn't you be? There's a vampire commiting crimes, you work in the police and they know you almost renegaded on your pledge a couple of weeks ago, and on top of it all your boss...'

'I what?'

'Doesn't like vampires much.' This was Angua.

'Neither do you.'

Angua shrugged again. 'This one's not to bad.'

Vimes just grunted.


	11. Chapter 11

Cassandra had no idea how to track Pan down. But she had to try. She had to. As soon as her shift was over she prowled the streets like the vampire she was, trying to spot red hair, or green eyes, trying to stop another death.

She failed.

Another day dawned. Another corpse was discovered. Cassandra had known it was going to happen. All she could do was hope that Vimes was hunting Pan down. Because it _must _be Pan. Any other vampire would have been discovered very quickly, by other vampires, in all probability. The trouble was that Pan was a very powerful vampire. He could be vicious. He could be charming. Often he could be both at the same time.

He was _enjoying _this.

She would make him suffer for that.

For now, however, she was stuck performing various tests on pieces of evidence relating to dozens of different crimes. And then she was due to go out on patrol with Corporal Nobbs, a task she did not relish at the best of times. Meanwhile all the very best, and quite a few of the merely mediocre officers were trying to find Pan-_no-_a vampire who may or may not be Pan.

Cassandra hadn't felt so angry since she had been thrown out of the Alchemist's Guild. Because there was nothing she could do. Not without mentioning Pan to Vimes, who would tell her she was being paranoid. And she _was _being paranoid. But sometimes paranoia is right.

Nobby didn't notice the way she convulsively kept clenching her fists when they went out. Or the way she snapped at those unfortunate to be arrested by her.

**Apologies for the short chapter.**


	12. Chapter 12

Days passed. Another victim was found, then another. And _still _the Watch couldn't trace the killer. Vimes was getting more and more furious with every passing minute, as was Cassandra.

_Why am I so useless? Why am I letting this get to me? It ISN'T Pan. It's another smart vampire who can't ignore those dark little urges. Like I can. Like I always have. Now I have alchemy. And the Watch. I have too much to lose all over something so stupid. Pan is nothing to do with me._

The bruises had faded. At least now she didn't think of him every time she looked at them. She sighed. Things never changed. Actually that wasn't true. _Everything _changed and she stayed the same, which was so much worse. She might out-lived everyone she knew. She _would _unless something happened involving stakes, or holy water. Or garlic. Otherwise she would watch everyone fade while she remained, as vivid as ever. She had once lusted after immortality, but after being seduced by it she had seen it in the light and been appalled.

_People are dying out there, because you won't tell Vimes about Pan...No. That's not how it is. People are dying because there's no proof. Then do something. Be a member of the Watch, and not just a ridiculous vampire who has never even tasted blood. Don't you want to be like Pan? So powerful, so full of bloodlust, so sleek. It would be so _sweet_..._

Cassandra blocked out her own madly swirling thoughts and turned to the acids she should have been attending to.

Everyone was tense, when the letter arrived.


	13. Chapter 13

**No prizes for guessing which famous Victorian serial killer I am parodying here. Oh and Cassandra tells Vimes about the time she first met Pan.**

Cassandra had been summoned to Vimes' office again. When she arrived a letter was thrust at her. She took it and read:

_Dear Sam,_

_You'll never catch me. Keep trying though, it amuses me.. How many girls do you think I can kill? Perhaps you should consult your prophetess. She has such wonderful insights. Remind her that chain reactions work on a circular principle._

_From hells._

She looked up sharply. 'When did you get this?'

'It was found this morning in amongst all the other mail. Now what do you suppose they meant when they said 'consult your prophetess'? Carrot informs me that you share the name of a famous seer.'

Cassandra bent her head and murmured 'I suppose this is where I tell you about Pan. Because I _know _he's been killing these women. It's just like him. And do you know _why _he's doing it?' She looked up at Vimes and her eyes were aflame with hatred. 'Because he thinks it's _funny. _Because he knows it will drive me mad and that _entertains _him.' She took a deep breath and told them about the night that she became immortal.

Cassandra Larimar stormed into the street. She could still hear her parents, and all of their words, painful, terrible words. They just wanted to hold her back. They just didn't want her to become better than them, to have a _real job, _a career even. To be someone who chooses their fate instead of letting others choose for them. She was one of the unfortunate people cursed with an idea of their own destiny.

Cassandra had become restless, tired of living in the poorer streets of Ankh-Morpork. She had felt that she was _destined _to be better, to be important and different. To be _somebody. _Cassandra had just woken up one morning and had all those feelings descend on her without warning. And the only way she had known to deal with them was to escape her old life. Or try to. Her parents had not been supportive of her announcement that she was going to become a journalist. When she had made the decision it had seemed so _wise, _so _right. _After all she was literate, and admired the work in the _Times. _But then her family had interrupted her fantasy with stupid worldly concerns, told her that no one like _her _could do something like that and to go and get a real, _steady _job, in a kitchen or a laundry. That was when the row had started. And it only stopped when Cassandra walked out into the street.

She was ashamed to realise that in her anger and frustration she was crying. As the adrenalin faded she also realised that she was alone, in Ankh-Morpork, in the middle of the night. Which was suicide. But she could hardly go back home now. Grand gestures like leaving should not be spoiled by returning, and besides she was too proud. She was also rather lost, although she had a vague notion that she was somewhere north of the Shades. A voice intruded on her worried and desperate thoughts at that point. It was a friendly voice, a voice that didn't seem as though it were going to attack her, which was a plus.

'It's rather too cold for you to be out on your own on a night like this.' The figure caught sight of her. 'Oh. Is something wrong? Is tonight illuminated for you by the light of burning bridges, perhaps?'

Cassandra made a spirited attempt at stopping her tears. She turned to face the stranger, who was a pale young man, with long red hair and bright green eyes. He bowed slightly.

'Ah, I should introduce myself, shouldn't I? You may call me Pan. And you are?'

Cassandra frowned. 'Cassandra. Does that mean you have other names?'

'Perhaps. We shouldn't loiter in the streets like this. Ankh-Morpork is dangerous enough in the daylight.' He grinned, and held a hand out to her. After a second's hesitation she took it.

'So why are you risking your life by strolling the streets, Cassandra?'

'Because I wanted to change my life. Become someone else. Someone better.' Somehow it was inconceivable to tell him anything but the truth.

'Everyone dreams of being someone else. Yet so few are actually prepared to leave their old life behind. In the end you have to ask yourself if you are strong enough. Brave enough. Desperate enough. Are you Cassandra? Are you?'

He seemed to know where he was going. For some reason Cassandra didn't feel anything but safe with Pan, despite only just having met him. 'I think so,' she mumbled.

'Have you ever considered that the end of something just means a beginning of something new? Perhaps tonight heralds a new life for you. Where you will succeed. Where things will be better.' He glanced at her tearstained face. 'There is little point in being depressed. The past will only hold you back. Forget it and you shall be so much happier. Remembrance equals despair. You have wasted enough time despairing, I think. Now you have the future to look forward to. It's so much better.'

'Why do you care?' The words spilled out before she could stop them.

Pan shrugged. 'Because sometimes you meet a person who could use a little guidance in how to cope with life. Someone who needs some advice before life drags them down. I'm afraid life is terribly cruel, Cassandra. Especially to those who believe it to hold treasures for them.'

'And then...then he _attacked _me, and I woke up a vampire and I had to deal with it.' She gave the kind of shaky little sigh commonly found in people who were about to either start or stop crying. 'And I didn't want to be a journalist anymore, not after I discover alchemy. And then, the other night, the night of the first killing, he turned up at Mrs Cakes.' She told him about the brief reunion.

'So the morning after-you knew and you didn't tell me? After I _asked _if you knew anything?'

'I didn't know anything then. There are so many vampires in the city. It could have been any one of us. I thought he would never be so _stupid. _If I'd told you I'd have just been another alchemist that had been spending too much time with the mercury.'

Vimes didn't seem to know what to say. He was deciding though. Cassandra knew what was coming. She was going to be fired. He was going to hate her. She was responsible for this whole affair. She watched him frame the words in his head and waited for them...

'Think you can fix this?'

'No. But I can stop it. Tonight.'

Vimes nodded. 'The thing about circular principles?'

'Yes. I know where Pan will be. No one is to come with me.'

Vimes raised an eyebrow. 'I can't let an officer go into a dangerous situation without back-up.'

'I can't expect anyone to get hurt trying to stop him. Sorry, Mister Vimes, but I think you understand. This is my fault. All that remains is to see whether I earn my redemption or recieve my punishment tonight.' She smiled. 'I'm sorry if I don't make it in for my shift tomorrow.'

She turned into a bat and exited through the window.

Vimes waited a few moments before calling down the speaking tube. 'Carrot? Angua? Anyone else on duty? I think there's somewhere we need to go. Can you track the smell of fireworks over the air, Angua?'


	14. Chapter 14

**Once again I start parodying myths-Pandora's box anyone? **

Cassandra flew frantically, landing in a street she remembered all too well, but which had no name, as far as she knew. It was just a glorified alley, really. But it was the place where she had died. _Well, sort of _she amended. It was at least the place where her mortal existence had ended.

In a second she had returned to her normal, human shape and was staring down the street. 'I know you're here.' She almost whispered the words.

'Is tonight illuminated for you by the light of burning bridges, perhaps?' Pan's voice rang out from everywhere.

Vimes, Angua, Carrot, Detritus and Reg heard the voice as they sprinted through the streets. They had been the only officers on duty. It was midnight. All wasn't well. They came to a standstill at a crossroads.

'Which street?'

'Cowardice, Pan? I thought you were _fearless?' _Cassandra reached for a vial of holy water she had taken to carrying since he had reappeared that night, that felt like so very long ago though it had no right to. Admittedly it made her itch to have it on her person, and she had lived in fear of it smashing in her pocket but now...

He appeared in front of her. 'I'm no coward. After all I started something all those months ago.' A pleasing thought seemed to strike him. 'Why I opened Pan's box in your head, and unleashed all kinds of evils on you, didn't I? I turned you into the perfect predator and then _you _refused to hurt your prey. You fell apart, didn't you? Because of what _I _did. You couldn't _cope. _And then, when you did you joined the _Watch. _And I just had to ruin it for you. I think I'll give you one more choice. The light or the dark? I think you know now, how the light burns us so. The dark is so much easier, so much _better._'

He laughed. She threw the vial at him. He caught it easily, then tossed it back at her feet, hard. It shattered and a light shower of droplets sprayed up at her. She closed her eyes as the burning started. She could smell smoke. It hurt too, but that didn't matter, what mattered was...

_Smoke. You're an alchemist. And an officer of the Watch. You are all that _before _you're a vampire. There's enough time to burn later, right now there's an _arrest _to be made. It's all about belief. So believe in alchemy. Believe in the law. But don't ever believe in vampirism._

She opened her eyes. Red burns showed the effects of the holy water. But now the smoke was stopping. Now it was just water. She knew that. Alchemically there was no difference between holy water and normal water. _So just keep believing that._

She saw the momentary look of disbelief flit across Pan's features, and then she glared at him.

'When you opened a "box" in my head have you any idea what was left in it? When all else had fled? No? Then I'll tell you.' She hissed the words. 'The _law. _Which is why I am arresting you now. And if you resist, I'm armed._'_ She flourished a small stake, which she had also been keeping on her person in case of emergencies.

Pan just stared at her as though she had lost her mind. Then he started talking again. She wished he would just attack her and get it over with.

'Would you really do that to _me?_ I created you.My very own star-crossed Cassandra.' He lunged at her.

The Watch pounded down another alley, and this time they could hear voices.

'Star-crossed Cassandra.'

Two figures plunged to the floor in one heap as the Watch finally found them, at the far end the street.

The stake was as much a hinderance as a help. Pan wouldn't stake her, in all probability. He'd _bite _her, because that would have a suitably _mythic _quality, and besides it would probably hurt more. But he _was _trying to rip the stake out of her grasp with one hand, all the while clawing at her face and hair with the other, tearing and pummelling. He liked to cause pain. It was a measure of control. And the more you fought the more he pain he would inflicit, just to see how far you would go.

Her grip slipped and he wrenched the stake from her. Smiling, he righted himself and held the stake ceremonially in front of him, so that it formed a barrier between them. Panting she realised that the pointed end was poised to plunge into her heart. She almost screamed at the unfairness of it all. He was _evil. _He should _lose. _But Pan always won. She couldn't take her eyes away from the length of wood. He grinned maliciously. 'Alchemists? As much a disappointment as their science.'

A streak of gold leapt out of the night, just as Cassandra rolled to the left. She hadn't been expecting such a basic evasion method to work, but lifted herself out of the gutter to find an explanation.

A golden wolf had hit Pan. And he had fallen on the stake. Cassandra watched him crumble into dust, which the wind picked up, forcing the particles to dance in the night as it dispersed them. She watched, hypnotised, until someone started shaking her gently by the shoulders.

'You alright?' She gazed dreamily at the figure for a few seconds before her brain managed to come back from the adrenalin-induced madness. _Grey...grey...the dust was grey. So is this person. _The sudden urge to laugh gripped her, but instead she found tears sliding down her cheeks.

'Mister Vimes? I don't think she's entirely herself. And someone should have a look at those burns. And the scratches.'

_Scratches? Blood. _Cassandra made a huge effort and attempted to pull herself together. Tentatively she raised a hand to her face, and dragged it along the numerous ridges and bleeding dips which apparently marked Pan's frenzied attack. And her blistered arms. She shook her head. 'I'll be fine.' She tried to smile. 'We heal quickly.'

Vimes turned to her. 'I hope that doesn't apply to the _other one.'_

'No. He's lost. You have to gather all the ashes, and then give them a drop of blood. But,' Cassandra concentrated as the world tried to slide out of focus, 'but he's been scattered.'

And then the world _did _slip away from her, and she was only dimly aware of Detritus lifting her off of the street.

**I really would appreciate knowing what you thought of this chapter-it's the first time I've written a really climatic scene (or even a proper fight, now I think of it), so I'd just like to know how it turned out.**


	15. Chapter 15

Cassandra woke in Pseudopolis Yard for the second time. It was slightly better than the first-she wasn't hung-over this time, merely recovering from having been attacked by vampire who wanted to kill her. Mainly this was an improvement because people tend to be more sympathetic and can't tell you about all the horrifically embarrassing things you've done in the recent past.

She was in a cell though. Gingerly she tried the door. It wasn't locked. So she ascended to the office, not caring that she was still in the clothes she had been wearing when Pan attacked her, or that her hair had formed a tangled mass that hinted at having been dragged through a bush backwards. Quite a few officers were present. They all looked up at her, then decided that there was some very pressing paperwork to be done. Apart from Carrot, who approached with his usual friendly smile.

'Mister Vimes would like to see you.'

'I thought he might.'

The first thing Vimes said, however, was not what she expected.

'Why did he call you 'star-crossed'?

'It means ill-fated. I guess he considered me unlucky.'

'You were for him.'

'No. He broke the law. That wasn't bad luck it was justice. He deserved to be punished and it was unfortunate that he fell on the stake before he could be properly arrested.' _Actually it was very lucky, wasn't it? Have you ever tried restraining a vampire? It's bloody difficult, I'll tell you that for free._

Vimes sighed. 'You know I'll have to explain this to Vetinari?'

'I suspect you have experience in that area.' Angua was in the office too. She nearly always was. Cassandra turned to her. 'Thanks for last night. I don't think Pan thought a werewolf would ever come to a vampire's aid.'

Angua smiled slightly, and shrugged. 'We're all members of the Watch before we're anything else.'

'Right.' Cassandra smiled. 'It's Thursday today isn't it?'

'Yes.'

'In that case I may have to take an extended lunch break.'

Vimes rolled his eyes. 'I think you're owed a day off.'

'Perhaps tomorrow.' She left quickly, entered the main office and began counting.

_1, 2, 3, 4-_

'How are you?'

'Fine, Reg, fine.' She couldn't repress a faint grin. 'Shouldn't we be somewhere though?'

He actually clapped his greying hands together with joy. 'You don't know how good it is to have someone involved in the Fresh Start Club who's so dedicated.'

'No, I don't think I do.' She waited until they had left the Yard before saying quietly, 'you were there last night.'

'Well, yes, because I was on duty and Vimes-'

'I'm not like _him, _am I?' The venom in the word made it quite clear who she was referring to.

'Not at all.'

Cassandra visibly relaxed. 'Thank the gods. Because I could have been.'

'But you're not.' Reg glanced at her. 'Sometimes your unlife is more important than your life.'

She smiled at him, gently took his hand, and headed for a Fresh Start.

**Sickly sweet ending I know, but it was the only way I could think of to end 'An Alchemist's Progress'. If you want more let me know and I'd be happy to write another Cassandra fic. Review, please? **


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